


the love we won't get right

by scarletred



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Break Up, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post-Break Up, Sad, Sad Ending, they love each other but they can't be together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletred/pseuds/scarletred
Summary: The sun is quite low on the horizon and it’s in his eyes so at first he’s nothing but a silhouette against all that light. He could be just anyone, really. If not for the way Max’s heart immediately skips a beat.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	the love we won't get right

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!  
I've always wanted to write something based on Winterbreak by MUNA and !! I've finally done it !! yay me :')
> 
> Warning: it's sad as fuck and I wrote it listening to sad songs only because I love Pain™. The sad songs being: Winterbreak of course, What About Love by BANKS and Pink Light by MUNA again. Listen to them for extra sad feelings!! Can you tell I love that band? Yes yes give me that angsty shit! *raises her fist*
> 
> Anyway let's get this French bread!!! *winks* 'cause _bread_ in French is _pain_ *winks* see what I'm doing here? *winks again just to be annoying* uhh this is a Sad Fic why am I being a clown making terrible buns, I meant, puns sorry. Okay, I'll stop.
> 
> I hope it breaks your heart because then it means I've done a good job *evil laughter* enjoy! 😇
> 
> PS: this is the longest thing I've ever written in one sitting, I think!

The air is crisp when he goes outside so he zips up his jacket and tightens the scarf around his neck, hands stuffed in his pockets because he forgot gloves, once again. The leaves on the ground cushion the noise of his steps and he’s thinking about what he’s going to make for dinner when he spots him. The sun is quite low on the horizon and it’s in his eyes so at first he’s nothing but a silhouette against all that light. He could be just anyone, really. If not for the way Max’s heart immediately skips a beat.

_3 years ago_

The bar is noisy and crowded, filled with students drowning in alcohol the sorrow of a brand new year of 8am lectures, assignments finished in a feverish all-nighter, exams barely passed despite all the efforts. There’s an old pop song coming from the speakers when Lando slides up next to him, saying the sentence that – he doesn’t know yet – will change his life.

“I’ve invited a new exchange student. The Aussie one.”

Max rolls his eyes. Lando and his inability to stop dragging more people into their tight-knit group of friends. First the Spanish guy – and Max gets that one because Lando had been crushing on him _for ages_ and they’re finally going _somewhere_ – then an annoying and spoiled brat from some made up place in the south of Europe, now this.

“Us foreign students gotta stick together” he says. Every damn time. Like he hasn’t moved here with his family a decade ago. Max just takes a sip of his beer and plans to ignore him and this new bloke for the rest of the evening. He can bring them around, but he can’t force him to befriend them, right?

“Hiya mate!” somebody shouts and suddenly there’s a very tall and very good-looking guy in front of their table. His brain immediately goes: _who are you where do you live how old are you why are you so fine how do you like your eggs in the morning_. And if there’s also a _please let’s get married and have three children and two dogs_ thrown in there no one needs to know.

“Hi Dan! This is my best friend, Max.” Lando turns to him. “Max, this is Daniel. He’s Australian.”

Max sends him a _yeah, I know that_ kind of look before diverting his attention to hot Aussie guy. Daniel. Dan. Future husband. Whoa there. He swallows that thought before offering his hand – sadly not in marriage – for a handshake. His grip is firm but not too intense and Max smiles as he finally says “nice to meet you” to the person that will break his heart.

He hasn’t seen him in almost a year and it tastes a bit sour in his mouth as he notices that he looks just as good, maybe even better, but then again Daniel has always looked good in his eyes. The bitter part of his heart was hoping that he’d come back running to him, looking like a ghost forged from sleepless nights and tormenting regrets. What he hates the most though is how self-conscious he feels right now. He had a shift at the hospital this morning and he spent the entire afternoon in the library trying to put together an essay that’s due next week. He has barely eaten anything and he’s definitely in need of a shower and some sleep. There’s simply no way he can compare.

Yet Daniel smiles at him as he approaches him. It’s not one of his big, bold, bright smiles. It’s not one of the soft ones that were reserved for him either. It’s a shy, tentative smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes. It’s all kinds of wrong on his face and he wishes he could just tell him. He wishes he could just yell at him to make him see what he has done to their love. But he can’t, he knows he can’t. There are some battles simply impossible to win.

“Hi Max” he says. Voice barely a whisper, maybe he’s struggling to breathe too.

It shouldn’t hurt hearing his own name being pronounced by the voice he’s so fond of. It shouldn’t yet it does. Because until not long ago he was _Max_ only when they were fighting. Dan had a habit of addressing him with the most ridiculous pet names, now he can’t believe that he used to hate it. Now he wishes he’d gone with one of those instead. He has never hated his own name more.

There’s a moment between his choked reply – _hi Dan_ – and Daniel’s inevitable question – _how are you?_ – where they stand awkwardly in front of one another, without really knowing what to do or what to say. How do you initiate a conversation with someone you have so much history with? How do you make small talk with the person that used to know you inside out? Besides, it feels so weird greeting each other without any kind of physical contact. There was a time where they would have kissed first and greeted later. Fallen into bed together and then, only then, recounted their time apart. It feels like a lifetime ago. It feels like yesterday morning.

_2 years ago_

They’re curled up on the couch watching the latest Netflix rom-com when the bomb goes off and everything collapses on itself. Max had been carefully avoiding thinking about _what’s next?_ and he feels so reckless and dumb when Daniel says he’s going to New York in a week. He’s been so caught up in his own little world and he ended up being blindsided by something that he definitely should have seen coming.

“For how long?” he asks with the little courage he has left. His heart is beating so fast he feels this close to passing out. A part of him wants to pass out and avoid this conversation, skip the hours ticking by and the painful _goodbye_ he already knows he won’t have the guts to say.

“Three months. Might be more.”

He hates this, he hates this, he hates this. He hates him. He hates himself too. He fell so hard and so fast, incapable of resisting to his goofy charm and childish sense of humour. His defences useless against his pretty words and silky tongue. There’s a knife lodged in his throat now. He can’t help but think that he’s the one who handed it to him.

He hates the way he said it. So smoothly, without stuttering or hesitating, like he rehearsed it first. He hates that he’s saying he’s leaving with this face, so soft and domestic. With this voice, the same one he thought dreams were made of. He’s never been more wrong in his life. He’s never been more stupid and oblivious. He knew this was going to happen yet he chose denial. And now the same hands he’s used to hold are crushing him to death.

Daniel is looking at him like he doesn’t know whether he should give him a hug or flee the scene before it gets messy. The fact is he doesn’t even know how to react to this himself. He feels like a fish that’s been thrown out of the water, he can feel the air surrounding him and it’s only worsening his sufferings. On the screen the main character is finally kissing her love interest and Max wishes he could just sink into the couch and disappear.

“Will you come back?” he asks. _Will you come back and stay?_ is what he means. He’s being selfish, but he thinks you earn the right to be selfish when your whole life is on the line. This is the man he imagines settling down with. Buying a house together and figuring out how to make flowers grow even in that corner that the sun doesn’t quite reach. He’s starting to realise he has wasted too much time daydreaming about a future that could never exist. It hurts. Being betrayed by your own brain. It hurts. Being betrayed by the person you always thought you could trust.

It’s a simple _yes or no_ kind of question. He’s desperate for the three letters that will ease his nerves a little bit. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they don’t come.

“Of course, baby. I’m not breaking up with you” he replies. It should calm him, but it doesn’t. On the contrary it ignites a fire inside of him that’s burning too strongly not to be let out. Daniel’s face is doing that thing he hates where it’s obvious that he’s thinking Max isn’t getting the direction of the conversation. Like he isn’t the one who thought he could just drop a bomb of this scale in the middle of a random night and walk away from it, unscathed. Like he isn’t the one who has obviously been keeping things from him and planning this whole thing behind his back. He doesn’t get to be spared of his rage too.

“Funny because this sounds like _breaking up_ to me” he snorts. Daniel looks at him like he’s suddenly gone mad, but this is just the beginning. Maybe he’s so clueless as to be unaware of all the lines he has crossed, well, Max is going to throw every single one of them in his face. “You can’t just tell me you’re leaving in a week _for New York_ and you don’t even know when you’ll be back.”

“I couldn’t- it’s not-” he huffs. Of course, dumb Max can’t fathom how the fascinating and competitive world of journalism works. It’s not like he has to fight every day tooth and nail to manage to stay afloat in the tumultuous sea of med school. He’s feeling sick. Who is this stranger sitting right next to him?

“You couldn’t _what_?” he spits. “You couldn’t tell me earlier? We’re a couple, we’re supposed to discuss these things. Together. And you went and decided everything on your own.”

Daniel at least appears a bit guilty, but that look is quickly replaced by one of disbelief once again. It’s possible he is getting angry as well. Max is already too tired of this shit and he can tell that the storm is barely starting to build up. He doesn’t want it to end in a shouting contest.

“I decided on my own because it’s _my life_” he yells. “It’s my life, my future. You don’t just say no to an opportunity like this one.”

He’s talking like he expects Max to back away and apologise. He’s talking like Max is the one in the wrong here. How can he be so blind? How can he not understand? There’s no way he considers him that irrelevant. Just a background character, the decoy love interest before the actual one shows up.

“And what about me?” _What about us?_ He’s afraid there’s no _us_ anymore. He’s afraid there’s never been one. Not really. Not ever. It comes out more whiny than he intended. It’s just going to reinforce the idea Daniel has of him as a petulant child who can’t understand someone else’s needs. It’s staggering to realise he doesn’t even care at this point. His mind is already made up.

He doesn’t get a reply to that. Daniel simply looks down and when he looks up his eyes are watery. He knows then. They’re writing the tombstone for their relationship.

“You don’t even know _if_ you’ll be back, do you?” He wanted to scream it, but it sounds like a whisper. He feels deflated. For a second he pictures himself watching this whole scene from the outside. That’s probably what it will feel like when he’ll look back at this moment in the future. Possibly for the rest of his life. This is the moment the shadow he tried so hard to ignore finally catches up to them and makes everything lose its colour and warmth.

“Don’t ask me to stay” Daniel says and it hurts feeling compassion for how broken he sounds when he’s the one that’s leaving. Leaving him behind in the process. He’ll get a new flat in a new city, one that’s not tainted with memories. It’s a luxury Max won’t have. But he can’t force himself to be indifferent to how Daniel feels. He’ll have all the time in the world to hate him, resent him, curse his name and his country. For now he’s still the man he loves and calls _home_.

“I don’t know if I could-” he stops, a sob escaping his lips and Max wishes he could just kiss it away, kiss him and fix everything, undo these past few minutes and erase them from the course of history forever. “I don’t know if I could ever say no to you” he chokes out. There’s a shattering noise ringing in his ears and it’s hard to tell whether it comes from the TV or his ribcage.

“_Oh, Daniel_” he breathes out as he pulls him into the gentlest hug he can manage. “I’d never do that to you” he murmurs into his shoulder. There’s so much more he’d want to say, but all the words seem inadequate compared to what is going through his heart. Deep down he has always known that he loves him so much to let him go. He would never ask him to give up his own dreams for his picket fenced one. Daniel’s soul is a wandering one, whilst Max is a creature of habit. Deep down he has always known there was no way this could have worked. Knowing it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“We can make it work.” Daniel says with such conviction it’s heartbreaking. Staring into his eyes like he fully believes the lie he’s telling himself. “It’s the 21st century. We have phone calls and the internet and Skype and-”

“And an entire ocean between us” he interrupts. He hates taking up the role of the destroyer of all hopes and fantasies, but this is what they are. Illusions. Versions of the future that simply cannot be. With their busy schedules and different time zones a long-distance relationship could never work. Being a med student he has learnt the hard way that no matter how much you love someone sometimes you just have to pull the plug. So this is him, pulling the plug, hoping it’s truly the wisest thing to do. But life is rarely that simple.

He doesn’t reply to Daniel’s question, he knows him well enough to realise he was just stalling and waiting for his move instead.

“Where are you coming from?” he asks, genuinely curious about his recent whereabouts. If he had to place a bet, he’d go with the southern hemisphere. Dan has always been fascinated by it and it makes sense considering his origins. He doesn’t look too surprised by the question or maybe he’s just gotten better at hiding disappointment. There’s no way to tell.

“South America. Peru mostly” and here comes the typical smile he does when he’s reminiscing a happy memory in his head. “I petted so many alpacas!” he chuckles. “They look cute, but some of them have an attitude… they kinda reminded me-” he clears his throat and stops right there. Yeah, they’re not going down that path anymore. It’s not beneficial to either of them.

He cuts the embarrassment asking: “Where next?”

“Russia!” Daniel is beaming as he attempts some folk dance moves and they laugh out loud when he trips on his own feet and almost faceplants on the ground. He has missed this idiot so much. When the echoes of their moment of happiness die down they’re left with the same awkward caution. Their usual ritual now dictates that Max asks the most terrible question.

“How long?”

Daniel averts his eyes before answering. And Max already knows the kind of answer he’s going to get.

“I’m flying out in the morning. I just came to see-” he doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to. Max knows perfectly well the reason why he’s in Amsterdam right now.

He has always hated the cruel irony of their lives. Daniel may travel around the world, but the magazine he writes for is based in Amsterdam. And he knows he’s still working with them because he subscribed to it. Every two weeks he receives a printed copy of it directly at home. He rips the plastic film covering it, he flicks through the advertising until he reaches the index, checks that there’s an article signed by Daniel Ricciardo, then closes the magazine and puts it on the pile with the rest of them. He used to love his writing style, he loved reading his thoughts and seeing the world through his eyes. It hurts too much now that the world he writes about isn’t the same as Max’s.

Daniel knows about the stacks of gloss paper sitting on his coffee table. It’s not like they’re hidden. He has never asked about it. He doesn’t need to.

“I’m graduating in April.”

It’s not an invitation. It’s more an open door. He’s saying _I’d like you to come_ without actually setting himself up for disappointment. Or at least that’s the lie he tells himself. He’s saying _leave room in your schedule_ when they both know Daniel’s schedule is hectic and prone to last minute changes. He already knows he won’t be there. He won’t be there and he’ll be sad about it. And he’ll be mad at himself for putting his hopes up once again. For nothing.

“Wow, that’s- that’s great, Max” he says, smiling. He hates how he has to stare at his own shoes to avoid the pride and affection shining in Daniel’s eyes. There was a time he didn’t mind the emotions in his eyes. That time is long gone now.

_10 months ago_

They bump into each other – of all places – at the supermarket while he’s doing some mid-afternoon grocery shopping. He’s struggling to reach the higher shelf, the one with his favourite kind of cereal, when someone practically wraps themselves around him and grabs one of the boxes. He’s ready to yell at the stranger when he realises it’s just Dan.

After some poor attempt at small talk they finish their shopping in silence – rather, they finish _Max’s_ shopping, Daniel claiming he only needed milk – and end up taking the same bus home. Daniel pretends to have missed his stop by accident and Max invites him to his flat.

One minute he’s listening to a funny anecdote from his latest trip to India and the next Daniel has him pressed against the wall as they kiss. Kisses turn into fiery touches and before he knows it they end up tangled in bed like they always do. Every time he swears that this is the last one and he’s only getting closure. Every time they fall victim to their own neediness and the wound keeps getting deeper and nastier.

They’re lying naked and sweaty, breaths still uneven, Max’s eyes are closed as he runs his fingers on the scar Daniel got in a cooking accident in Morocco and for a second he doesn’t feel ashamed about what just happened. He has weeks ahead of him that will be filled with shame and regret and want too. Nights spent staring at the _call_ button on his phone, hoping that if he wishes it enough, Daniel will be the one to contact him first. Days spent checking his internet connection every five minutes – as often as he refreshes his email inbox, finding it empty if not for the occasional spam message – and praying for that bubbly ringtone until he starts hallucinating it.

He feels pathetic whenever he stops to think about it. He feels like an army wife constantly waiting for the war to be over, except there’s always another conflict breaking out somewhere. First it was New York, then he moved to LA, later on came Tokyo and Cape Town and after that he lost track. It’s harmful and it’s slowly destroying him just like he thought it would. That’s why they technically broke up six months ago, deciding to part ways once and for all. Judging by the fact they can’t keep their hands off each other whenever Daniel pops back into his life it’s safe to say that plan isn’t working so far.

It’s a shame considering how well they fit together if it wasn’t for the circumstances. Maybe in another lifetime they’d still be a couple. One where he’s not trying to become a doctor and Daniel isn’t trying to become the best journalist ever. One where their paths cross and become one instead of heading in opposite directions. With Daniel asleep in his arms it’s difficult to imagine that this isn’t the life he gets to keep forever.

“We could have been great, you and I” he murmurs against his skin as he leaves a feathery kiss on his shoulder.

“You know I still love you, right?”

His voice is too warm to shock him and turn his blood into ice, but that’s exactly what happens. He quickly moves away from him like he has been burned. He didn’t expect him to be still awake.

“Get out!” he shouts. “Out! Get out!” he repeats as he dresses himself in a hurry, not even able to look at him. He couldn’t bear the sight of him, curled up on his bed like he still belongs there. He doesn’t. He shouldn’t belong in his heart either at this point. What they’re doing is reckless and stupid and it’s more damaging than it is nice.

“I said _get out_!” he yells again. Daniel has a ton of regrets weighing down on his face as he gathers his clothes and Max has never seen him look so sorry. But right now the wound is hurting him like a bitch so he’s feeling bitchy too. “How _dare__ you_ say that? When you’re the one who keeps coming and going?” His eyes are stinging and his nerves are fizzing with pent-up rage. “How _dare you_ say that you love me when you just keep leaving me? Over and over again?” he gives him a light shove to push him out of the bedroom. “And I’m the one left to feel like some fucking booty call?” he knows it’s not like that. Deep down he knows it. But he’s mad and he’s hurting and he wants it to hurt him too. “This isn’t love, this is a fucking nightmare I’m stuck in!” he takes a big breath trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “You come back and I think – God, what an idiot – I think that finally you’re back for good, but in a few days, hours even, I’ll wake up to an empty bed again!” They’ve reached the door of his flat now. Daniel is full-on crying silently at this point and Max chokes on another sigh he tried to avoid. “I can’t do it… I can’t do it anymore” he sobs. Daniel moves to hug him or wrap an arm around his shoulder – he doesn’t know – but then he seems to change his mind and he stops mid-air. A perfect statue of a broken-hearted man. He lowers his gaze before giving him one last remorseful look and leaving, door clicking shut behind him.

Max slides to the floor and allows himself to cry at last. It’s truly over now, but he doesn’t feel any better. After a few minutes his phone chimes signalling an incoming message. Of course it’s Dan. _I’m sorry_ he says. Max doesn’t have the strength to tell him that he’s sorry too. About today, about the past year, about everything. He hopes he knows it anyway. In the morning he’ll find Daniel’s milk bottles in the fridge and spend another twenty minutes sobbing his heartache away on the floor.

“Lando and Carlos are getting married” he says. Because he enjoys suffering apparently. Because he really doesn’t know what they should talk about. They have reached this stage it seems. The one where even the smallest interaction feels like swimming through quicksand: difficult and forced.

“Yeah, I heard” he replies with a bittersweet smile. _That should have been us_ goes unspoken from both sides.

The wind is picking up again and he shivers slightly as Daniel offers to walk him home. His cheeks are rosy because of the low temperature and he can see the warm exhales of breath as they leave his mouth. He has half a mind to kiss him right there and then, just to remember what it feels like, just to feel some warmth again. Daniel’s eyes keep flicking down to his lips too, he can tell. He’s trying not to, but he can’t help it.

“Better not to, you know” he mumbles. There’s a longing in his heart that will be hard to get rid of. But if he lets him walk him home, he knows they’ll end up just like last time if not worse. At least one of them should try and be responsible for once. He hates always being the one who ends up denying himself something. He hopes it will pay off at some point.

Daniel nods and stays quiet. His gaze never truly leaving him and he’s waiting for him to say something, _anything_, even one of his dumb jokes just to prolong the moment. But there’s nothing left to say, isn’t it? This is the part where one of them has to be braver and say _goodbye_ first. He doesn’t want it to be him.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Daniel says, breaking the silence. There’s that smile on his face again, the one that’s painful to look at. Heartfelt and honest, with a rawness in it that speaks more than a million words ever could. Daniel is – and probably will always be – the greatest _could have been_ of his life.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around” he parrots, almost breathless, because there’s no right way to say goodbye to the love of your life. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to move on from this. He doesn’t want to. Yet he has to. Life truly is a bitch sometimes. _In another lifetime_ he thinks, _maybe_. Max presses a lingering kiss to his cheek as a traitorous tear falls from his eyelashes onto Daniel’s skin. He’s going to blame the cold for it. And as he walks away – without ever turning around despite Daniel’s eyes burning a hole in his back – and the tears keep falling he blames the cold for that too. He better get used to it. November has never felt so cold as it does now in Daniel’s absence. Deep down he knows he won’t ever see him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! If you have listened to the song, you'll have noticed this fic is a lot angrier than the song actually is, but I figured the flashbacks would be quite like that. I hope I managed to portray the bittersweetness well.
> 
> Also, I feel like I should say that the idea of Max being a med student and Daniel being a journalist came to me from a series of books turned Italian tv series that I've binge watched last month. I needed good reasons for one of them to be a wanderer and the other to be forced to stay where he is and bam! inspiration.
> 
> Let me know what you think!!


End file.
